No, no, no, no, no.
I cannot believe we are here again. I can’t believe I have let you back in to my life with such ease that for the last six nights, you have consumed it. Insomnia, I thought we had been over and over this. You are not good for me.
During our most recent encounter, I felt a change. I am totally at your mercy. You’d been creeping into my thoughts over recent weeks, but since last Friday, you have really got your claws into my psyche. I blame the drugs. The drugs got us here. Bloody fake menopause and it’s stupid syringes. Bloody cyclophosphamide and it’s bladder irritability. Bloody toothache. You adulterous cretin. That’s why this time feels so different, so out of my control. In addition to the anxiety and over thought emotions that usually accompany our dalliances, and the daydreams of things that will never come true, this time, you make me want to move. By move, I mean it’s involuntary and it is when I want to sleep. You make my feet move, my hands move and my toes. You make my pulse race. My brain is going at 100 miles per minute and so too are my extremities. You really got me this time. Goddamn you. I hate you.
It’s so unfair. You may be caused by a chemical imbalance, but I have also let this happen. I perpetuate your behaviour. Take this evening for instance, I didn’t need to eat those pork scratchings before sleep did I? But I did, and then you woke me up after all the effort it took for me to fall asleep to tell me I was thirsty, despite me taking a litre of water to bed. Once up, that was it. I was in my head again and in The Daily Mail’s gossip column.
You are making me grumpy in my days. Ordinarily, I would not have thought that somebody was a stupid twit for suggesting to me the day after I had it, that the only side effect from my chemotherapy was ‘just’ fatigue. Today I did. It was a rash judgement, but one that I could not help. I wanted to scream ‘you try having chemotherapy man who has stolen Scooby Doo’s vocabulary and see how hot you feel’, but thankfully, I held it in and just passed my feelings onto neutrals. Tits.
I think about you all the time. I think about you in the day, I think about you when I try to go to sleep and I dream about you when I am sleeping. I hate you Insomnia. You made me yawn in Middlesborough’s face. Several times.
We are at an impasse.
So, Insomnia. I would really like it if you went away again. You know I can’t say no.